Inspired by Beauty
by Scribbles-by-Kate
Summary: RumBelle non-magic AU in which Mr Gold is secretly an artist who's inspired by the beautiful librarian, Belle French. Belle accidentally discovers his passion and is even more intrigued by and attracted to the enigma that is Storybrooke's most feared citizen.
1. Chapter One

So, this is something I've been working on for a while and thought I'd finish up and post. I suppose it's a good time of year for it: Happy Valentine's Day :) Comments always welcome!

_Once Upon a Time_ is the property of Adam Horowitz, Eddy Kitsis, and ABC.

**Inspired by Beauty**

Gold sat in the booth at the back and pulled his sketchbook from his inside pocket. Sitting with his cup of coffee in front of him and an unobstructed view, he was able to sketch a few details about the object of his inspiration without anyone being any the wiser. Nobody in town knew about his passion, and he wanted to keep it that way.

He'd dabbled in drawing and painting all of his life, but it was only in the last year that it had become something of an obsession: only when he met _her_. It was a combination of her warm smile, the guileless, fearless look in her beautiful blue eyes, and the charming way she spoke to him in that pleasantly lilting accent that caught his attention. And her kindness and friendliness too, even to one so disliked as he, had made her beautiful in his eyes. That first night, he'd recorded what he remembered of her face, and every day since then, he'd been trying to perfect his work, trying to make his art reflect the beauty that was Belle French.

She sat at the counter, as always, a book open in front of her, as always. She paused every now and then to take a bite of her sandwich or a sip of her iced tea, but nothing else distracted her from her reading. Even Ruby conducting a gossipy conversation with a giggling Ashley couldn't pull Belle's attention from her book.

She shifted position now, one elbow resting on the counter and her hand coming up to her mouth. She bit her thumb, a sign that she was gripped by her story, and he turned to a fresh page and sketched out the gesture, intending to capture it in more detail later. And now she bit her lip, a sign of excitement, and he wondered what she was reading that excited her so.

He wondered if anyone else noticed these little things about Belle. He knew that she would likely be disturbed at the way he studied her in such minute detail. He would never go so far as to follow her around, preferring to capture her likeness in person only here in the diner, where they both ate lunch every day, but he was aware that his interest might be seen as obsessive. That was why she could never know the inspiration she provided for him: he didn't want her to feel uncomfortable or afraid. He valued her warm smiles and the fact that she spoke to him without fear of his reputation, and he didn't want to lose that: he would die if he lost that.

He watched as Belle closed her book and paid Ruby for her lunch.

'See you tomorrow, Ruby,' she called. Ruby waved and then Belle was gone.

Gold finished his coffee quickly and made his own way back to work.

It was a frosty day, his breath turning to mist on the air as he walked. He spotted Belle ahead, slowly making her way back to her library. He smiled to himself, realising she was reading as she walked, a regular habit with her.

A voice across the street called her name and she looked up and saw Ariel Marin. She looked both ways and was about to step off the path to go and meet the redhead when a truck hurtled around the corner, paying no attention to the stop light.

Ariel screamed, but Gold had already reached out, grasped Belle by the elbow, and spun her around. She collided with his chest, which was a damn sight better than colliding with the truck. His arms went around her as her hands clutched his upper arms. Her head was tucked under his chin and she stayed there for a long moment, breathing hard, as was he.

'Belle!' Ariel cried, rushing across the street. 'Oh, Belle, are you alright?'

Belle looked at Ariel. 'I'm fine,' she said, 'thanks to Mr Gold.' She looked up into the Scot's brown eyes and smiled. 'Thank you so much.'

'No matter,' he said, realising that he was still holding her, but she was still holding him too, so he didn't let go.

'You saved my life,' she said, grateful. She'd always seen more in Mr Gold than the ruthless businessman most people believed him to be and this just validated her feeling that there was more to him than most people saw.

'Well, I was happy I could be of assistance,' he said, and she knew he meant it. 'I think perhaps you should sit down: maybe a cup of tea to settle your nerves.'

'He's right, Belle,' Ariel said: 'you do look very white. Why don't you let me take you to Granny's?'

Belle thought for a moment and then nodded. 'Yeah, I think that would be a good idea.' She looked up at Gold again. 'Thank you again, so much: I owe you.'

He shook his head at once. 'You owe me nothing: I'm just glad you weren't hurt.'

She smiled. She'd have liked to hug him or something, but she settled for smoothing down the lapel of his coat with her hand instead. There was so much she wanted to say, but she couldn't find the words. She looked up at him again and smiled again.

Gold released her and stepped away.

'Have a good afternoon, ladies,' he said, and walked away quickly, wondering about that little gesture with his coat. She was a sweet little thing, was Belle, but it wasn't a good idea to think on that for too long lest he start to want things he could never have. He told himself to be content with worshipping her in his art; besides, he had a phone call to make and a dangerous driver to have arrested.

'Thank goodness Gold was there,' Ariel breathed, her arm around Belle as she escorted her back to Granny's. 'Thank heavens for his quick thinking.'

'Yes,' Belle agreed quietly, remembering his warmth and how it felt to have him hold her close like that.

'Belle? Are you alright?' Granny asked, seeing her pallor the moment the two friends appeared in the diner.

'Some jerk almost ran her over,' Ariel declared. 'If Gold hadn't been there to pull her out of the way…'

'Oh, my God,' Granny breathed, coming out from behind the counter. 'Here, Belle: sit right here. Ruby, bring Belle a cup of hot, sweet tea.'

'Sure thing,' Ruby called, hurrying to fulfil the request.

A few minutes later, Belle was sipping at the hot drink and chewing on the brownie Granny insisted she have too.

'How do you feel?' Ariel asked.

'Better,' Belle said, and she did have some colour back in her cheeks. 'Thank you all so much,' she said, smiling at Ariel, Ruby, and Granny.

'You're welcome, dear,' Granny said, patting her shoulder.

'We should report that driver,' Ruby said.

'I didn't even see his licence plate,' Belle said.

'I'm pretty sure Gold did,' Ariel said: 'he's probably called the sheriff.'

'At least Gold was there,' Granny allowed: 'Lord knows he's not my favourite person, but he did a good thing today.'

'He's a good man,' Belle stated: 'people would see that if they looked beyond his reputation.'

'Well, call us if you need anything,' Ruby said, as she and Granny went back to work.

'I picked up your things for you,' Ariel said, taking Belle's book and notebook from her bag.

'Thanks,' Belle said, reaching for them. 'Oh, this isn't mine,' she said, looking down at the notebook.

'It's not? It was on the ground with your book: I thought…'

'It must be Mr Gold's,' Belle said: 'he must have dropped it in the commotion. I'd better return it to him: it's probably important.'

Ariel smiled. 'Maybe it's got all his plans for world domination in it,' she quipped.

Belle laughed. 'I very much doubt Mr Gold would be likely to have such plans, but even if he did, he'd be too smart to write them down in a notebook that anyone could find.' She held the notebook up as she spoke, but it slipped out of her hand onto the floor and, rolling her eyes at herself, she leaned down to pick it up.

As she was leaning, she saw that the book was open and she didn't mean to look, but the drawing caught her attention and she gasped.

'Belle?' Ariel asked.

Belle stared at the drawing for a long beat, mesmerised by what looked very like her own face, beautifully rendered, looking down, with a soft smile. Indeed it _was_ her own face: her name was written at the bottom in Mr Gold's handwriting. She couldn't take her eyes off the exquisite drawing.

'Belle?' Ariel asked again, loud enough to draw her out of her reverie.

Belle picked up the notebook – _sketch_book – quickly and snapped it shut.

'What did you see?' Ariel asked curiously.

Belle shook her head. 'I didn't mean to see it: it's Mr Gold's property and I would be wrong to share its contents.' She felt that he wouldn't want anyone to know, but at the same time, she felt that everyone should know and admire his talent.

Ariel didn't press for details, knowing Belle wouldn't give them.

'I'm going to return this to Mr Gold,' Belle said, and she stood.

'Alright, honey: I'll see you later?'

Belle nodded and hugged her almost absently, and then she was gone, starting up the path towards Mr Gold's shop.

What should she say, she wondered. Should she acknowledge that she'd seen the drawing or just return the book without making mention of it? The thought of not acknowledging it bothered her, she realised: she should praise his wonderful talent. She thought that he'd guess anyway if she tried to hide it: he was smart like that, could read people's faces.

She wanted to know if there were any more drawings of her in this book, wanted to know how long he'd been drawing, if she could see more of his work. She'd always been intrigued by Mr Gold and now there was another layer to this enigma of a man. She so wanted to know him.

She reached the shop and walked straight in, only to find Mr Gold in the process of leaving, hastily shoving his arm into his coat sleeve. He stopped dead as soon as he saw her, and his eyes locked onto the book in her hands, his face draining of colour.

Belle closed the door behind her and took a few steps towards him.

'Ariel picked it up,' she explained: 'she thought it was mine. She only just gave it to me or I would have returned it sooner. I'm so sorry, I–'

'You looked at it,' he interjected. His tone wasn't accusatory: it was more resigned, but Belle felt guilty anyway.

'I didn't mean to,' she said. 'I dropped it accidentally and it fell open. I only saw one drawing and I brought it straight here.'

He swallowed hard. 'I'm sorry,' he said.

'What for?' she asked, genuinely confused. Why was he apologising?

'I never wanted to make you uncomfortable.' He looked away, pained, and she so wanted to take that pain away.

'I'm not uncomfortable,' she told him. 'Please.' She stepped towards him. 'I'm so sorry: I didn't mean to look. I just came to return it and tell you that the drawing I saw was very beautiful. It must be so nice to have such a talent. You have a gift, Mr Gold.' She looked down at the book in her hands, smiled softly, and gently stroked its cover. Then she held it out for him to take.

He didn't take it, though, and she looked up into his face, only to find his eyes blazing. She couldn't hold back her gasp.

For a year, Gold had poured his adoration for this woman into his art, into capturing her likeness over and over again, but now he knew that that would never be enough. The way she'd touched his coat, the way she'd stroked his sketchbook, he wanted her to touch him like that, with that tenderness.

'Take it with you,' he said then, pointing to the book. He needed her to see them now, because then she might begin to understand his feelings. 'Take it with you and look at them,' he entreated.

'You-you're sure?' she asked.

He nodded and she held the book close to her, aware that she'd been given a very special gift.

'I'll look after it: I promise,' she told him gently, very touched.

He nodded again: he knew that.

She smiled and then turned and left, hurrying over to her library with the sketchbook.

Her heart was beating fast as she pulled her chair in behind her desk. She was excited to see more of his beautiful drawings, but she was also very touched that he'd trusted her with so personal and intimate a thing as his sketches, which she somehow knew no one else had ever seen. She would treat the book with special reverence, especially because it belonged to him.

She opened the sketchbook and began to look through his drawings. She quickly realised that they were _all_ of her and that both surprised her and made her heart flutter. The sketches were beautiful. Some were just quick line drawings, while others were more detailed, but they were all beautiful. He'd captured her likeness over and over again in sure strokes, a confident, practiced hand: an artist's hand. She could hardly believe what she was seeing: his drawings made her look beautiful.

The library remained quiet that afternoon, the cold weather keeping most people indoors, but Belle didn't mind: she was lost in Gold's sketches, looking through them over and over again, awed. She could hardly believe the way he had captured her: beautiful, glowing: she had never imagined that he might see her this way.

She wondered how long he'd been drawing her. There were dozens of sketches in this book, so she'd wager she'd been his unknowing subject for a long time. He was always at the diner during her lunch break: had all of these been drawn then?

He must have been studying her quietly for months. The realisation might have disturbed some people, but it only excited Belle. There'd been this connection between them this whole time… But why not ask her to sit for him for real? She would have said yes in a heartbeat. He'd said he hadn't wanted to make her uncomfortable, but he had never done that. She had always liked him: she should make that clear.

She turned the pages of his sketchbook carefully, her eyes tracing the lines of his sketches, drinking in the detail. They were truly beautiful drawings, even the quick little line drawings. Were these beautiful, careful drawings evidence of some feeling for her beyond friendship? Oh, she hoped so!

She made herself wait until the library's closing time to go and talk to him. She needed to tell him how he'd moved her, how it touched her to see such beautiful images of herself. She didn't know quite how to express what she was feeling, but she would find a way.

She locked up the library and made the short walk to the pawnshop. There was a light on and the door opened easily when she turned the handle.

Gold looked up as the door opened, holding his breath as Belle French came in, holding his sketchbook in her hand. So, the hour of reckoning had come.

'Mr Gold,' she breathed, 'I hardly know what to say.'

She stared at him and he wanted to dig himself a hole and never climb out of it. God, he was such a fool! How could he have ever thought that she'd be interested in _him_?

'I understand, Ms French,' he said wearily. 'Please, I really hope we can forget this ever happened. I'm very–'

'But I don't want to forget it happened,' she told him, eyes wide.

He frowned. 'You don't?'

'No!' she cried. She hurried towards him, but made herself stop halfway to the counter. She bit her lip, her cheeks on fire. She stared at him, trying to breathe. 'Oh, Mr Gold,' she whispered.

'Are-are you alright, Ms French?' he asked, alarmed: 'you're shaking.'

She laughed softly. 'You drew such beautiful drawings of me in this book: over and over again. Is it any wonder I'm shaking? Have you any idea how it feels to see such exquisite drawings of myself?'

He stared at her, heart pounding. 'Tell me,' he requested, voice gruff.

She took a step towards him, smiling.

'It's…overwhelming. My heart is full of joy, and pleasure, and astonishment. I'm so touched, and honoured, and I just have to know what they mean.' She took another step towards him. 'You captured my likeness over and over with such care: tell me…what does that mean?'

He stared at her. He could say that she was just a pretty woman with an interesting face, but that would be a lie. He could tell her that she was the most beautiful soul he'd ever known and that he'd been captivated by her from the very beginning, but that would leave him vulnerable and open to ridicule and the loss of her friendship.

_Oh, just tell her_, a little voice nagged at him: _tell her and face the consequences. Be brave for once in your life, Gold!_

'I… It means that I-I've been captivated by you since the day I met you,' he told her, his voice shaking. 'You're so beautiful and kind: I…' He trailed off helplessly.

Belle couldn't hide her blush or her smile of pleasure. 'I never knew you felt that way about me.'

He nodded, sighing. 'I value your friendship: I didn't want to risk losing it by telling you of my feelings.'

She shook her head at once to reassure him. She took the last step to him and touched his arm.

'I have such strong feelings for you too. They've been growing ever since the day we met. I've often wished to know you better, and now I want that very, very much. I don't have a sketchbook to pour my feelings into, but I do-I do think about you.' She stroked his arm, smiling.

His whole body shook and he had to close his eyes for a moment and breathe.

'You are exquisite,' he whispered, looking down at her, his expression full of wonder.

She blushed and smiled. 'And you are intriguing. There's so much I don't know about you: would you tell me about yourself?'

'What do you want to know?' he asked, rather stunned at the turn things had taken, but it was very pleasant to have her here, looking at him with her beautiful eyes alight with interest and even affection.

'Something simple to start: what is your first name? Your library card lists you only as "T Gold".'

'It's Tristan,' he told her.

She smiled. 'Tristan: I like that. It suits you. When did you start to draw, Tristan?'

'I've always drawn and painted–'

'You paint too?' she asked, awed.

He nodded, fascinated by the light in her eyes. 'Yes. Art has always been a hobby of mine, but it's really only in the last year that it's become something of an obsession.'

'Is that…because of me?' she asked, her face alight with wonder.

'Yes.'

She caught her breath and smiled radiantly, and he wished he had paper and pencil to hand: he longed to draw every new expression on her face. Actually, what he really wished for was to paint her, for her to sit for him.

'You are a very surprising man, Tristan,' she told him, still smiling, 'and I'm very much going to enjoy getting to know you better.'

Gold was rather in shock that she was here, and looking at him like he was someone special to her. He wasn't quite sure that this wasn't a dream.

'Ms French–'

'Belle,' she requested softly: 'please call me Belle.'

'Belle,' he whispered.

She smiled at the look of awe on his face. He'd clearly never imagined that there could be anything between them, and that charmed her: it was so endearing to find a man who didn't assume that his advances would be welcome. There were a few men around town – Greg Gaston and Keith Nottingham in particular – who came on very strong with her. She didn't like that, but she did like Tristan's polite, unassuming manner, and, consequently, she was more at ease with him.

'I was wondering…' she began, but trailed off shyly.

'What is it?' he asked, eager to hear it.

'I was wondering if… May I sit for you, Tristan?'

He stared at her, his heart thumping. He was quite sure he could happily paint her for the rest of his life.

'I would like that,' he said, 'very much.'

She bit her lip. 'So would I.'

Belle's heart was beating fast. As fascinated as she'd always been by Mr Gold, this hidden side to him really piqued her interest. Knowing that he was an artist added to her attraction, and knowing that he was an artist who had chosen her as his muse felt like something out of a romance novel. Practicality and reason told her to get a grip on herself, but her romantic heart wouldn't be reasoned with.

Gold still couldn't believe he wasn't dreaming. She was staring at him as though he was the best thing she'd ever seen and it was overwhelming. Suddenly he needed to touch her to be _sure_ this wasn't a dream, and he reached out tentatively.

Belle smiled and placed her hand in his. She looked up at him, waiting.

She wanted to be here, he realised, wanted to be with him, and suddenly he saw a future in which they were together, and he'd give anything to make that happen.

'Are you busy this evening?' he asked.

'No,' she returned, smiling.

'Would you like to–'

'Yes,' Belle said at once, and Gold understood that she was saying yes to everything: she was saying yes to _him_, to _them_, to a future in which he wouldn't have to admire her from afar, a future where she could be his, and not just his muse. Well, what a day this was turning out to be!

**So… shall I leave it there or keep going? What do you think?**


	2. Chapter Two

Well, people wanted more, so who am I to deny them? Things get a bit steamier in this part.

**Inspired by Beauty**

_Part Two_

He closed up shop and they stepped out into the night together.

'I swear it's gotten colder in the last few minutes,' Belle commented, looping her arm around his and stepping close to his side.

'It's a night to be indoors,' he said, and looked down at her, delighting in having her so close.

She looked up at him and smiled.

'The car's just down this way,' he said, and she nodded, turning with him and walking by his side.

She took a breath of cold air and smiled.

'Can you smell that?' she asked, looking up at him: 'it's going to snow.'

He breathed in and he knew what she meant: he could smell the cold crispness of snow on the air.

'I think you may be right,' he murmured.

Belle smiled and squeezed his arm.

'A magical night to end a wonderful day,' she breathed.

He looked down at her again. Where had this beauty come from, and how was it that she'd chosen him of all men to be with?

She smiled up at him. She could see the surprise in his eyes that she was here with him and she wondered what had happened to him to make him think himself unworthy of someone's affection. Well, she was determined to give him hers. It would probably come as a surprise to him, but she didn't plan on parting from him until morning, and maybe not even then, if he was agreeable.

They reached his car and he held open the passenger door for her.

'Thank you,' she murmured, smiling at him.

He nodded and moved around to the driver's side.

'You're sure you want to do this?' he asked.

'I'm very sure,' she returned at once.

He nodded and started the car, and they drove towards his home.

Once there, he led her in and took her coat for her.

Beneath it, she was wearing a beautiful pale blue top made of lace and a dark blue skirt and tights. She wore her hair down, but pinned back off her face. He wanted to paint her just like this, just as she looked now.

Belle turned and smiled at him. 'Are you alright?' she asked.

He blinked. 'Yeah. S-sorry, I just…I was thinking about how I want to paint you.'

Her eyes lit up. 'May I ask?'

'Just as you look right now,' he told her.

She smiled. 'Alright.'

'But you must be hungry,' he said: 'why don't we eat?'

'Sounds wonderful.'

'Good,' he said: 'the kitchen's just this way.'

She followed him, slipping her hand into his as they walked. He looked back at her and smiled. She was affectionate and sweet. It had been a long time since a woman had touched him, a long time since he'd had any kind of affection. Even just the touch of Belle's hand made his blood sing.

'Your home is lovely,' she commented, as they entered the kitchen.

'Thank you. If you like, when we're done eating, I can give you the tour.'

'I would like that,' she told him. 'Where do you do your drawing and painting? Do you have a studio?'

'Not really. I keep everything in one of the spare rooms upstairs, but I tend to work mostly in the library, actually.'

'You have a library?' she asked, eyes lighting up. 'Of course you do,' she said, answering her own question: 'of course such a voracious reader would have his own library. Makes me wonder why you come to my library so often.'

He looked at her. 'I come to see you,' he told her.

'Oh,' she said, and blushed prettily. 'You know, your visits to the library are always the highlight of my day.'

'Yeah?' he asked.

'Mhm.' She smiled. 'We've been dancing around each other for months, haven't we?' she asked, and laughed a little. 'Well, at least we finally figured it out. All it took was a near-death experience.'

'Oh, don't,' he said, cringing: 'I thought you were…'

'Tristan,' she whispered, stepping close to him, touched at his concern. 'Did I, uh, did I thank you for saving my life?'

'Yes,' he said immediately.

But Belle smiled and shook her head. 'I don't think I did it properly.' And she reached up and kissed him gently.

Gold froze for a second and then kissed her back.

Belle pulled back a bit and smiled. 'There.'

'Your lips are so soft,' he said, awed, and then rolled his eyes at himself: he sounded like an idiot.

But Belle only smiled. 'Yours too,' she murmured, and licked her lips.

There was something in her eyes that made his blood rush south and made him stare at her for a moment. Suddenly he remembered that he was supposed to be making them dinner and blinked.

'Right: something to eat.'

Belle smiled and watched for a moment as he moved around. He was nervous, she saw, and it endeared him more to her.

She wasn't nervous: she'd actually never been less nervous in her life. She knew what she wanted and what would make her happy, and it was him.

She stepped up beside him and offered her help with making dinner. He smiled and they set to work.

0

It had been a long time since he'd been in such pleasant company. They chatted over dinner and he found himself relaxing and opening up in the face of Belle's sweet smiles, curious questions, and bright eyes.

'You've worked hard to get where you are,' she said in admiration after he'd told her how he started out in poverty in Glasgow.

'Hasn't been easy,' he told her: 'money can be a hindrance to real emotional connection.'

'People try to get close to you for the money,' she guessed, nodding sadly when he nodded. 'I'm sorry. Is that why you're surprised by me being here with you?'

'You're very perceptive,' he said quietly.

'I'm a reader,' she said, 'of people as well as books.'

He nodded. 'Part of it is the fear that anyone getting close to me is only really interested in the money, but part of it is…' He sighed. 'I was married once,' he told her, figuring he might as well say it.

'You were?' she asked.

He nodded. 'We were young and stupid. I thought we were happy together, but one day I discovered that she'd been seeing someone else. She left with him. Since then, I've…'

'You've loved no one,' she finished, 'and no one has loved you.' She reached for his hand. 'I think you'd be very easy to love,' she said softly. 'I think it would be very easy for me to love you.'

'Belle,' he whispered, his eyes watering. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had said something so sweet to him, and the best thing was that he knew she meant it

Belle saw that her words had affected him and she squeezed his hand. She wanted him to be comfortable, wanted him to know that she cared for him. It seemed he'd been hurt very badly and she wanted to make up for that.

Gold reached out with his free hand and traced her cheek with the backs of his fingers. The gentle touch made her want to nuzzle close to him.

'You're a sweet woman, Belle French,' he said.

She smiled. 'And you're a charming man, Tristan Gold.'

He laughed a little. 'If there's one thing I've never been called, it's charming. Heartless and ruthless, yes, but never charming.'

She shook her head. 'That's just a mask you wear,' she said knowingly: 'beneath that mask, you're sensitive and creative, and absolutely fascinating. You know, I've never enjoyed being in a man's company so much.'

'I've never enjoyed a woman's company so much. I'm surprised such an enchanting, beautiful woman doesn't have a boyfriend,' he said.

She smiled at his lovely compliment. 'I hadn't met a man I thought was interesting enough for me until about a year ago,' she said, nodding towards him with a smile. 'Some of the men in this town, they…they come on a bit strong: they think that's what a woman wants, but it's not what I want. I like you because you don't assume that anything is fair game.'

'You're talking about Nottingham and Gaston,' he said knowingly, and scowled. 'I think it's time I raised their rents.'

She smiled. 'You don't have to do that, but thank you for the thought. I don't think they'll be bothering me again, somehow.'

He smiled a little, still rather awed at the way she hinted at a future for them. It was still a lot to get his head around, but it was a very pleasant thought, the idea of having Belle on his arm, people seeing them as a couple. Yes, today had worked out really rather well for him.

They cleared away the dishes and he showed her around the Victorian mansion he called home. Having her here was like turning on a light in a long-darkened room. She just brought a new feeling to the place, a new life. It felt so right.

'And this is my favourite room in the house,' he said, opening the door to his library, the last stop on their tour.

Belle smiled at the sight of the books.

Gold watched as she moved around the room. The way she ran her fingertips along the spines of the books made him shiver a bit, and then there was a moment when she was standing at a bookcase, looking up, an awed expression on her face. Her pose and the way the light hit her face just had to be sketched.

'Can you stay standing just like that for a bit?' he asked.

'Yes,' Belle said, and bit her lip, excited at the tone of his voice.

He moved away and she heard him behind her, along with the rustle of paper and then fabric. Then she heard a shuffling sound and saw him place a chair where he had been standing. She looked over and saw him sit down, his tie now discarded and his shirtsleeves rolled up. He had a sketchbook and pencils in his hands.

'Do you mind if I sketch you looking up the way you were a minute ago?' he asked.

'No,' she said, and turned her head back the way she had it, looking up at the books on the shelf above.

She heard the scratch of pencil on paper and saw out of the corner of her eye the way he kept his eyes mostly on her as he sketched. It was like his eyes sent the signals to his hand and he just drew what he saw.

She felt her skin prickle under his intense gaze and she realised that this must have been how he'd looked at her every time he'd been drawing her over the past year. She wondered how she hadn't felt the intensity before now, but he had told her that he didn't want to make her uncomfortable, and he was capable of great discretion and subtlety. What she was beginning to feel wasn't so much discomfort as the tingling of arousal, pleasure beginning to spread from her core. The way he was looking at her, like he could see into her soul, made her want him very, very badly. Oh, yes, it would be very easy for her to love him.

She tried to keep a check on her desire, tried taking her mind off it by looking up at the books on the shelf above and reminding herself of the plots of any of the ones she'd read, but the sound of his pencil scratching kept bringing her back, kept reminding her that they were here because he'd made her his muse. Every time she remembered that, she flushed with pleasure, and she just had to glance over at him, and when she did, she found him still watching her, still with that mesmerising intensity, and she had to remind herself to breathe and be calm.

Gold finished up quickly enough and, pleased with his effort, he smiled.

'Thank you,' he said. It had only been about ten minutes, but it was still long enough to stand still with your head tilted back like that. Still, it hadn't seemed to faze Belle, or he thought it hadn't until she turned, leaned back against the bookcase and breathed deeply.

He frowned. 'Are you alright, Belle?' he asked, putting his drawing materials aside quickly.

She looked over at him. 'Can you come here?' she requested, her voice low: 'please?'

He stood and went to her at once. 'What is it?' he asked, seeing the way she shivered when he came close.

She looked up at him, her eyes dark. She reached for him and he curled his hands around her elbows, the look in her eyes drawing him in.

'Kiss me,' she requested, her hands pulling him closer: 'touch me, please.'

He shuddered and kissed her. All of his pent up desire fought with his intent to be gentle and his fear of not pleasing her, and the result was a very awkward kiss.

'I'm sorry,' he said, pulling away, his eyes slanting away, as if in shame.

'It's alright,' she said, stroking his cheek.

'It's…been a while,' he confessed: 'I worry about making you happy.'

'Why do you think you won't?' she asked, seeing that this was a big concern for him.

He sighed. 'Because I didn't manage very well with my ex-wife,' he admitted. 'That's why she left: I wasn't…enough for her.'

'Then it was her loss ,' Belle said at once. 'You are more than enough: you're wonderful, and you'll make me happy.'

'How do you know?' he asked.

She smiled. 'Because the way you've been looking at me, like you can see into my soul, has got me so aroused I can hardly stand it,' she said frankly. 'Touch me,' she murmured: 'don't be afraid, I want you to.'

He saw in her eyes that she did, so he kissed her again, not worrying so much this time about being out of practice. It seemed to please her because she moaned and pulled him closer.

Belle mewled as she felt his hands caressing her. She slid her hands into his hair and pressed close, kissing him fervently, delighted by the way he touched her.

Gold melted at the way her tongue played against his and the way her fingernails scraped gently against his scalp. Feeling her pressed against him was absolute heaven and he never wanted it to end.

'Mmm, you're a good kisser,' she breathed, smiling at him as she broke away to take a breath.

He could see in her eyes that she meant it and his confidence creeped up.

'You too,' he returned, his voice husky.

'Yeah, you'll make me happy,' she told him, sighing contentedly.

'I'm definitely gonna try,' he told her, his voice almost a growl.

She bit her lip in excitement. 'Come on then.'

He smiled, but then had a thought that made him freeze.

'What is it?' Belle asked gently, seeing his hesitation.

'I'm sorry,' he said: 'I don't have any protection.'

'Oh,' she said, pleased that he'd thought of that. 'It's alright: I'm actually on birth control. I get really bad cramps, so…' She smiled and stroked his arm. 'We can go ahead if you'd like.'

He kissed her. 'I would like to, if you're sure.'

She nodded. 'I'm very sure.'

He could hardly take his eyes off her as he led her down the hall to his room. He thought if he blinked or took his eyes off her for one moment, she'd disappear or he'd wake up.

She smiled as he led her in and flicked on the light. Without saying a word, she stepped up to him and kissed him sensuously, her hands on his chest and fingers unbuttoning his shirt.

Her hands on his bare skin sent a jolt through him and he was kissing her fiercely, his hands pulling her flush against him.

Belle gasped in excitement, her head tilted back and her hands buried in his hair as he kissed his way down her throat.

'Oh, yes,' she whispered: 'yes.'

He was kissing and nuzzling her neck, his hands hovering around where her top was tucked into her skirt.

'Undress me?' she requested, her voice breathy.

He didn't need to be asked twice. He pulled the fabric of her top out from her skirt and pulled it up. Belle raised her arms and he pulled it off over her head.

He looked down at her creamy glowing skin in awe.

Belle reached up for a kiss and finished unbuttoning his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders and stroking her hands over warm, bare skin.

'Belle,' he groaned, the touch of her hands setting him on fire.

She smiled and stepped back, stepping out of her shoes and unbuttoning her skirt. She rolled down her stockings and kicked them away. Now she stood in only her pale blue underwear.

Gold followed suit, discarding shoes, socks, and pants, until he stood only in his boxers.

Suddenly Belle was in his arms again, kissing him, her hands everywhere they could reach. He followed her lead, his hands exploring her body reverently.

'I love how you touch me,' she breathed, looking up into his eyes with a soft smile.

'I love that you're here,' he said, awed: 'that you want me to touch you.'

'I do,' she said earnestly: 'I want you to do more than touch me.'

'Anything,' he said at once.

She kissed his neck, her tongue slipping out to lick over his pulse point, making him catch his breath.

'Make love to me?' she whispered, pressing close, her hands sliding up and down his back.

He groaned. They were pressed skin-to-skin and he was hard and standing to attention against his belly. Her soft, warm skin pressed against him was doing nothing to help his composure and he felt himself twitch against her.

She looked up at him and smiled; then she stepped away and he missed her immediately, but then she reached behind her and undid the clasp of her bra. It fell away, baring perfect breasts, just the right size to fit into his hands.

Belle shuffled a little and he looked up, surprised to find her looking nervous.

'I know they're not spectacular,' she said apologetically: 'I've often wished they were bigger.'

It took him a moment to realise that she was talking about her breasts.

'Belle,' he admonished, 'they're perfect.'

'You think so?' she asked, in surprise.

He nodded. 'They're just the right size to fit into my hands.'

She saw him lift his hand, as if he would touch her, but he didn't, and she saw his fingers twitch. She could imagine how his hand would feel cupping her breast, could imagine his fingers plucking at her nipples, and she was almost on fire at the thought.

'Show me?' she requested, reaching for him.

He stepped up to her and reached out, cupping one of her breasts gently. He was right: it was just the right size to fill his hand.

Belle shuddered at the sight of his large hand covering her small breast. And now the thought of those hands on her other sensitive parts made her tremble and sigh.

'Perfect fit,' he said quietly.

'Yes,' she sighed, her breath catching as he moved his hand slightly, his fingertips tracing lightly over her skin.

She leaned into his touch. Milah had never done that. Oh, maybe once or twice in the early days, but she had never wanted him the way Belle seemed to.

'It's been a while, Belle: I—'

'For me too,' she told him, 'but I think we can figure it out together.'

He nodded. She knew how to encourage and soothe him. She was just so perfect, and she was here, wanting him to make love to her, and that was amazing.

Belle took his hand and stepped back towards the bed. He followed her: he'd follow her anywhere. She lay down and wriggled out of her panties, and then she reached for him.

He'd watched in awe as she bared herself completely for him, and he couldn't help the way his eyes travelled up her body. She was so perfect, so beautiful, and she was reaching for him now, smiling, and he carefully climbed above her, still not quite able to believe this was happening.

She shifted position in order to cradle him between her thighs and smiled at the feeling of him there, almost pressed against her.

Gold groaned at feeling her heat so close.

'Belle,' he gasped, unable to keep his hips from moving.

Belle caught her breath as they stared at each other. There was a hunger in his eyes that she'd never seen from anyone before. It made her feel so wanted, so beautiful.

'I need you,' she breathed, and reached down, tracing her fingertips over the skin above his boxers.

Gold took the hind and, rather ungracefully, struggled out of them.

Once he'd managed it, Belle smiled at him and bit her lip. He leaned down and did what he'd long wanted to do every time he saw her biting her lip: he kissed her, licking the spot she'd bitten. She shivered and gasped for him, and he felt her body rise beneath him: she liked him doing that.

Her responses gave him more confidence and he kept kissing her as he swept a hand down between her legs. She arched against him and moaned, and he felt how wet she was: her curls were soaked.

'You're so wet,' he stated, almost in shock.

She smiled. 'I've been thinking about this for months,' she confessed, almost shyly.

'You have?' he asked, in surprised awe.

'Yes,' she murmured.

'Me too,' he told her.

She smiled softly and reached up for a kiss. He obliged her, moving a little and lining them up.

'Yes!' Belle gasped against his mouth, and he slid inside her, as carefully and gently as he could.

His eyes slid closed and he savoured the feeling of her so warm and snug around him.

'God,' he sighed: 'oh, Belle. You feel…'

'You feel so good,' she told him, wrapping her arms around his neck and rolling her hips to bring him in deeper.

'Ohhh,' he sighed, holding still, trying to keep his cool so that he didn't finish before he'd started.

Belle waited for him, delighting in the feeling of him inside her. She smiled as he looked down at her and she kissed back eagerly as his lips found hers.

Concentrating on kissing her, Gold found it easier to keep himself under control and he started a steady rhythm, thrusting into her in smooth, unhurried strokes.

Belle caught her breath as he began to move and smiled against his mouth as she met his thrusts.

He felt her body rising to meet his and he knew that no one had ever responded to him like this. It gave him courage to follow his instincts and he began to alternate long slow thrusts with quick hard ones.

Belle keened long and low at the first slow, teasing thrust and then gasped in surprise as his next went hard and fast.

'So good,' she moaned.

'Yeah?'

'Mmm: oh yes,' she sighed. 'You're wonderful. Can't believe it took us all these months to figure this out: we could've been doing this all this time!'

He groaned at the thought. 'Then we just have to try and make up for lost time, I suppose.'

'I wouldn't have a problem with that.' She smiled and bit her lip.

He growled and kissed her, again licking the spot she'd bitten.

She shivered. 'That's so sexy,' she told him.

He smiled. He realised she didn't even know she bit her lip.

'So is the way you bite your lip when you're excited.'

Belle unconsciously did just that again and he growled and kissed her hard.

She squeaked in surprise and then smiled as he laughed.

'Sorry,' she murmured sheepishly.

He shook his head. 'Those little noises you make and the way you move against me…they let me know you really want me.'

She stroked his cheek. 'I do, very much.' And, keeping her eyes on his, she rolled her hips, catching her breath at the feeling of him rubbing against her.

'I don't know what your wife was thinking,' she told him: 'I really don't. You're amazing: you're perfect, and I've wanted you for so long. I want you now. Come on, Tristan: take me all the way, please.'

There could be no doubting her sincerity. He could see her desire for him in her eyes and there was no way he wouldn't give her absolutely everything she ever asked of him.

He moved a little, the new angle allowing him to go deeper with his thrusts, and, as he moved inside her, harder and faster now, building the intensity, he whispered endearments to her.

He called her 'sweet, beautiful Belle', 'my darling', 'sweetheart', 'lovely Belle', 'exquisite', 'perfect', and it was as much his words as the way he moved inside her that had her trembling and moaning.

'Darling,' she gasped when his movements and his sweet words had her trembling on the brink of orgasm, 'oh, my darling, I'm coming.'

And she did. She just couldn't hold on any more and she came hard, crying out and clinging to him, her body singing.

Gold felt her orgasm wash over her and the feeling of it, and knowing he'd done that to her, brought him a powerful release of his own and he just basked in it, losing all control of his body as it thrust and twitched and trembled in the aftermath of the most incredible orgasm of his life.

Eventually, he managed to roll off her and he looked over to see her stretching like a cat and hear her making a long sound like a purr. His heart thumped in his chest as he realised that that was a noise of complete contentment.

She looked over at him and giggled softly. Then she rolled onto her side to face him.

'That was the most incredible sex I've ever had,' she told him emphatically, 'and if I ever meet your ex, I'll tell her so. Foolish woman.'

He smiled. 'You're amazing. She never made me feel like this.'

'How do you feel?' she asked tenderly.

'Wanted, cared for.'

She smiled. 'I'm glad. And you make me feel very special, like I'm the only woman in the world.'

'You are, for me.'

She smiled. 'You say the loveliest things.' And she kissed him.

'Oh, Belle,' he whispered, 'I don't know how I'm going to be able to let you go after this.'

'Who says you have to?' she asked.

'Well, I can't keep you here forever, much as I might want to,' he said regretfully.

She wriggled a little closer to him. 'I wouldn't exactly be an unwilling captive, Tristan,' she told him. 'You know, I had a plan for tonight.'

'You did?'

'Mm, one that doesn't involve me leaving at least until morning, and maybe not even then if you wanted me to stay.'

He stared at her. She was fearless, and absolutely sure about what she wanted, and it was what he wanted too.

'Then stay forever,' he whispered, reaching a hand up to caress her cheek.

She smiled tenderly and kissed him.

He kissed her back and she pulled him close, and for a long while, the only sounds heard were soft sighs, excited gasps, and breathy moans.

**There you go. Thanks for reading :)**


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